Believe
by BPhantom
Summary: After the ending of Death Note / Alternate Ending. A one shot.


_Do you believe in 'Reincarnation'?_

…_What about 'the Afterlife'?_

_Is there any consolation after we die? Do we learn the answers to questions we were too afraid to ask in life?_

_What if…what if the impossible were proven? What if that 'Impossibility' told us there was a 'Heaven' and a 'Hell'?_

_What if it told us after death there was only 'Oblivion'?_

_Would you believe it?_

_Or…_

_Would you deem these 'Gods of Death' as ignorant as 'Humans'?_

This is the story of my death. Or, more importantly, this is the story of what I did after I died. You see, I saw it all: The Conflict, and the Resolution. I'm only sorry that I could only see so little of the 'him' that existed before all of this happened.

Death is not the end. There is not 'Oblivion' after death. Well, at least not after my death. I'm not sure about 'Heaven' or 'Hell', but the 'Afterlife' exists. A state of the human 'Soul' after the human is dead. I chose to stay on 'Earth' to see the resolution of the Conflict, to be there when he died.

You see, I was always alone. I had a guardian, yes, but never a 'companion'. I never had any 'friends'. Only him.

He was my first 'friend', as well as the last I would ever have. Our circumstances separated us. Were the criminal someone other than him, were he not possessed by that Demon, we might have had a chance.

Never were our interactions boring, never did they grow monotonous. When we talked, when we fought, or played, or comforted each other… every time, when the Demon ruled him and when it did not, our interaction was dynamic. His words held me in 'rapture', his actions always provoked a 'reaction'. The basic law of the universe on a much more personal level.

I was a 'genius'. I will not dispute the title. Rarely do 'geniuses' consider themselves such. I am no exception. To myself, I am not a 'genius'. However, 'self-perception' and 'egoism' are useless things. 'The world' gave me the title: it is mine regardless of my opinion.

I was not afraid of death. I had reason to accept whatever followed 'death', to follow my loyal 'guardian' into whatever 'Afterlife' to which he ascended. My personality and passion, however, would never allow me to do so. His death marked his departure from this world, and nevermore would I see him, even unto this hour.

As I said, I saw it all. I saw the way he tried to hide, using others as a shield, I saw his inevitable mistakes… really, 'N' and 'M' were good, but I was always better. Who did I think I was kidding? I knew it was him from the start; that 'killer'. I saw in him also a part of me, something with which I sympathized; it was the analysis of how this being so much like myself could be corrupted that detained me at first; later I had other reasons.

It was true, at first I did not 'like' him. I found him fascinating, and there was a sort of charisma that he seemed to radiate that attracted me. Then again, it attracted people as a whole. Maybe that was why he was the popular one, and not I.

After that incident, the time when he noticeably changed, my conviction to bring him to justice lessened considerably. I was relieved when I heard that killings had started again. It meant that I could hunt down someone else, and spare him for at least a little longer.

That was a mistake. I recognize this. I was really looking for an excuse to pardon him. I wanted to protect him, more than his family, more even than his 'girlfriend', that celebrity. I knew my selfish actions would hurt, would kill, many people, but  
I didn't care. I was 'selfish'. I wasn't 'objective'. I betrayed my 'principles', all for him. It was foolish. I see that now. After all, I've had 19 years to think about it.

My name is Lucian R. Leone. I attend a small English college, after growing up in France as an only child. I can speak French, English, German and Italian fluently, and am in the process of learning Portuguese. I desire to study law and politics in this University, and perhaps make a humble living as a linguist. I don't want to be restricted as a politician or police officer, and I would detest being a lawyer.

I won't be a detective. I already know what that life is like, and I don't want it, not for myself, at least. I may not remember all the skills I acquired at that time, but I do have memories. Vivid, poignant memories.

I walk into the classroom. It's the first day of classes, and slowly students file in. I scratch the disorderly strands of my hair; even now, it won't settle neatly.

A boy catches my attention. My eyes light up, though my expression remains the same. He is reading. My eyes do not stray from his face as I approach the seat next to him and sit down.

Suddenly, he looks up from his book. His eyes are piercing. I feel my pulse quicken. "Who are you?" He asks sharply and quietly. Even now, his manner is blunt. I am pleased.

"You don't recognize me…Kira?" I can't suppress my smile as green eyes widen. He may not remember me, but I see a flicker of the one I knew at that time in the green pools of his eyes, and I am 'happy'.

**The End.**


End file.
